Banks and banking -- France -- History -- 19th -- Fiction
And he was right in thus estimating
the effect of all this tinsel. The success of the building was
prodigious; as an effective advertisement it surpassed Jantrou's most
extraordinary puffs. The pious little capitalists of the quiet parts
of Paris, the poor country priests arriving in the morning from the
railway stations, stood gaping beatifically before the doors, and came
out flushed with pleasure at the thought of having their funds in such
a palace.
In reality, the point which more particularly vexed Madame Caroline was
that she could no longer constantly be in the establishment exercising
supervision. She was only able to go to the Rue de Londres at long
intervals on some pretext or other. She now lived alone in the workroom
at home, and scarcely saw Saccard, except in the evening. He had kept
his rooms in the Rue Saint Lazare, but the entire ground floor, as well
as the offices on the first floor, remained closed; and the Princess
d'Orviedo, happy in reality at being freed from the remorse of having
that bank, that money shop, installed underneath her, did not even
try to re-let the premises, indifferent as she was to the question
of making money, even in the most legitimate way. The empty house,
echoing to every passing vehicle, seemed like a tomb. Madame Caroline
now only heard that quivering echo ascending through the ceilings
from the closed wickets whence for two years there had ever come a
faint jingling of gold. Her days now seemed to her of greater length
and increasing dulness. Yet she worked a great deal, always kept busy
by her brother, who required her to do no end of writing for him. At
times, though, she would pause in her work and listen, instinctively
feeling anxious, desirous of knowing what was going on at the Bank. But
she heard nothing, not a breath; the rooms below were stripped of their
furniture, empty, dark, securely locked. Then a little shiver would
come upon her and she would forget herself for a few minutes in her
anxiety. What were they doing in the Rue de Londres? Was not the crack
appearing at that very moment--the crack which would cause the collapse
of the whole edifice?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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